


Studious Antiquated Lore

by FireEye



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: Locke and Edgar and the painful first few stumbles of a quest in Figaro's library.
Relationships: Locke Cole & Edgar Roni Figaro, Locke Cole/Rachel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11
Collections: Yuletide Madness 2020





	Studious Antiquated Lore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ovely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ovely/gifts).



The library was deserted at this hour of the morning.

Locke had fallen asleep in a chair, face buried in the open book on the table in front of him. A veritable fortress of books surrounded him, some stacked on the table, others on the floor. Some strewn about in not so tidy piles.

As was typical of Locke, the only reason Edgar knew he was in the castle at all was that, in his making himself right at home, he’d happened to spook a scholar. Dismissing the guard, he circled around the back of the chair and pulled Locke upright; his head lolled back against the ornate headrest, and his eyes fluttered open.

Only _half_ awake.

“Got overwhelmed by a little light bedtime reading, did we?” Edgar asked. He reached over Locke’s shoulder for the heavy tome, and lifted it to inspect its cover. “Magi faerie tales?”

Locke sighed.

He leaned forward to prop his elbows on the table where the book had been, and rubbed his eyes.

Edgar set the tome aside, and examined a nearby stack.

“Alchemy? Esoteric medicine? Theories of Magic?” He gave each one a cursory once-over, before setting it aside for the next. “A History of Cults? Accursed Bones: a Study of Undead Sightings?”

Figaro’s library was extensive. It held a cutting edge selection of modern articles on history and science as well as a renown collection of ancient and antiquated writings.

This particular cross-section of the catalogue raised several questions, preeminently, “What have you gotten it into to your head to dig up this time?”

Leaning back in the chair, Locke studied him with a bleary gaze.

“I’ll know it when I find it.”

Locke stood and stretched and cracked his knuckles, but wasn’t any more forthcoming about his research. He regarded Edgar sidelong, then rolled his head to study the ceiling, then the farthest of the bookshelves on the other side of the table.

Edgar placed _The Liche and the Phoenix: A Treatise on the Physical and Spiritual Immortality of Legend_ back on top of the stack.

“The Empire attacked Kohlingen.”

Locke’s voice was quiet.

“How bad?”

“ _Bad_ ,” he choked.

“Rachel?”

Locke clenched his eyes closed, and turned away. Edgar regretted having the nerve to ask.

“But... I don’t get it,” Locke said, frustration tainting his words. “Why _Kohlingen_? Why _now_? Why-... what?”

The blood had drained from Edgar’s face. Turning the thought over, he ventured, “If you _had_ gotten married...”

Locke blinked.

“I’d’ve been there.” He shrugged, and shook his head. “I _should_ have been there, and if I _had_ been there, I could’ve _done_ something.”

“You could have gotten yourself _killed_ , for a start.”

His shoulders shook violently, and his expression crumpled. Digging his fingers into his hair, Locke took one shaking breath, and then another. Struggling to regain some bare thread of composure.

It didn’t work.

Edgar touched his shoulder, and he collapsed into the young king’s arms.

“I’ve seen it before. I swear, whatever the Empire deployed on Kohlingen-... It was just the same as-...”

Rubbing his back, Edgar let him grieve. Encouraged it, if without a sound.

“Locke... how about we get you a proper bit of sleep? We can figure out what we’re going to do about this once you’re head is on straight.”

“No,” Locke insisted. He squirmed, pulling towards the books, but he didn’t break free of the hold Edgar had on him. “I need to find it, before it’s too late.”

“Find... what?”

“She’s not dead,” he whispered harshly. “But she’s not alive. She’s...”

Whatever in the Goddess’s Garden of Hell he meant by that.

“You are going to have to explain to me,” Edgar enunciated each word with perfect clarity, “exactly what happened.”

Locke lifted his head, meeting Edgar’s gaze square.

“Promise me they’re gonna pay. For this and everything else.”

“They are,” Edgar promised.

The Empire’s good will was run thin long before this, and its growing tally of transgressions weighed heavily on his mind.

“I _also_ promise that if you so much as _dream_ of running off to get yourself killed on some leafer-brained revenge scheme, I will personally throw you in the dungeon until you cool off.”

Upon considering those words, Locke nodded decisively.

Edgar let him go, unsteady as he still was, to stand on his own feet.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this angsty moment in the life of a ~~thief~~ treasure hunter. :)


End file.
